


Wasteland Survivor: Sid Johansen

by CASKET_EXE



Category: Original Work
Genre: Advanced Technology, Attempted Torture, Criminal gangs, Gay Characters, LGBTQIA+, Multi, Other, Trans Characters, Wasteland setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CASKET_EXE/pseuds/CASKET_EXE
Summary: "Sunlight shone through a room so small that it hardly was enough for the sleeping man and his gear. The sound of vultures croaking outside echoed through out the room, causing the man in the bed to shift. He let out an annoyed groan, covering his ears with a thin blanket as he tried to drown out the annoying sound of the birds. It was no use however, so instead, he sat up."---"Wasteland Survivor" is a series of stories about different characters and their experience in the futuristic world of the Wastelands. There is a constant fight between the people of "Rust Town", led by Dante Giovanni, and a criminal gang called "The Vultures", led by Roman Alcoser.This is the first part to this story.





	Wasteland Survivor: Sid Johansen

Sunlight shone through a room so small that it hardly was enough for the sleeping man and his gear. The sound of vultures croaking outside echoed through out the space, causing the man in the bed to shift. He let out an annoyed groan, covering his ears with a thin blanket as he tried to drown out the annoying sound of the birds. It was no use however, so instead, he sat up.

He rubbed at the bruising on his side, letting out a yawn before throwing his legs off of the side of the mattress and standing up. "Jesus.." The man mumbled, stepping over his gear and making his way to the tiny bathroom, only to stop in front of the mirror. He stared at himself, studying his pale skin and the various tattoos that covered it. He ran a hand through his short black hair, then scratched at the slight stubble beginning to form on his face. He made a mental note as to shave that morning before he tried to go anywhere.

His eyes wandered down to the scars beneath both of his breasts. They were still slightly fresh, but all of the scabbing had finally gone away. He ran a finger over one, slightly intrigued by the texture. He didn't have many, despite being an assassin for around nine years.

He looked into the mirror, lazily rubbing some shaving cream onto his face. He then began to shave. By the time he was finished, his face was smooth with a few dots of blood here and there. He wiped them away with a wet rag, admiring his own appearance. He had a bit of a shadow left behind from his facial hair, which he found helps in lessening his dysphoria when it comes to his face. For the many years of suffering he had gone through, he could happily say now that he passes as male. The man squirted some toothpaste onto his toothbrush, slowly brushing his teeth and eventually spitting, turning on the sink in order to wash what remained down the drain. With all said and done, he walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Now to get dressed. He grabbed a pair of pants off of the floor, yanking them up and putting a belt through the loops, fastening it. He leaned over, rummaging through his gear in order to find a black jacket with snake patches sewn onto it. Within the last couple of years, this jacket had been with him. It started out as a plain old piece of clothing, something he would normally not even bat an eye at, but had been glammed up for his own need of good fashion. No assassin should walk around plainly, after all. He slipped on a t-shirt along with his jacket, despite it being rather hot that day. The weather usually stayed warm and sunny, but they did sometimes get wind or clouds. Rain too. As used to it as he was, he always preferred the later. Nothing good comes out of thick clothing and hot weather while working.

The possibilities of today rushed through his mind. There were many things an assassin for hire could be asked to do, some a little strange while the others too normal to his ears. Killing wasn't always on his schedule, but it was definitely something that he was often asked to do. He didn't mind that, especially since it only added to his already-scary demeanor. He wasn't a very tall or intimidating-looking man, but the things he's done for the right amount of cash.. Well, others were right to fear him.

His stomach growled. Breakfast really did sound good right about now. The man let out a sigh, then grabbed the holster to his knife, wrapping it around his belt and slipping the blade inside. He would need that, just in case anyone decided to try anything funny. After all, living in the Wastelands was dangerous. He was lucky enough to currently reside within a small town called "Fleetwood". It wasn't much and they lacked a large population of people, since most were either living in other towns or dead, but it was still something to be happy about for once. However, there were still many downsides of living within Fleetwood, one being how easily criminals would be able to take over. He didn't fear much, though. If this town went to shit, he would just have to move onto the next.. And even if he gets kicked out or hunted for his crimes, there's still another. The only area he wouldn't travel to is the Scavenger's Gully, and that's because of who exactly resides there. Vultures, thousands of them- and not just the animal. No, the members of a criminal organization led by a terrible man by the name of "Roman Alcoser".

Roman declares himself as the crime king around every part of the Wastelands. It would be risky for most, but not him. He is protected, worshiped, but most importantly feared by many. Many have followed his path, joining his gang and taking the lives of innocents for the sake of growing stronger.

He would never join him or his stupid gang, not after all of the personal hurt he had caused.

Near the crooked door stood the man, ready to go on with his morning and grab some breakfast. He unlocked it, but rather than walking outside, stood there jiggling the doorknob. It was jammed. This wasn't all that new and to be honest, he was used to it by now.. But it still got on his nerves every time it happened.

"Shit.." He muttered, before hearing a popping sound and watching as the door opened. Huh.. Well, that fixes that. He closed it behind himself, locking it up with a key before slipping it into his back pocket and pressing onward.

There was a nice diner across the road, which was the only place you could really get food around here aside from the market. There, people set up tables and stands, selling a couple of different foods, weapons, and items. It wasn't anything too special. After all, living in the wastelands was hard. Sure, there was all sorts of weapons, technology, and people available, but the vultures and wildlife made living hard. He was lucky enough to have the money to afford things like surgery, testosterone, and food.. All because of his line of work. Many others couldn't because they refused to kill, which he had learned to respect.

The bell above the door rang as he entered the small diner, waving at the owner. She was a young and short, chubby woman with dark skin and dyed-brown bushy hair that was pulled back into a large ponytail. Today, she wore a black-and-white striped shirt with a pair of grey shorts tucked over the bottom. Freckles covered her face and she offered a smile back, handing the man a menu as he took a seat at the counter.

"Hiya, Sid." She said with her southern drawl, blinking with her thick lashes.

"Hey, Laura." He eyed the pistol strapped by her side, raising a brow. Well, that was certainly new. "When did you get that?" He asked, pointing a finger towards the gun.

"Yesterday," The woman answered. "Someone tried to rob me! Can you believe that?"

"Actually, yes.. I can." He mumbled back, reading over today's menu. He would be having the usual. "Eggs with a side of toast, please."

She nodded and he handed the menu back over, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He retrieved his lighter, burning the end of his cig and breathing in. Sid exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching as the woman began to prepare his food. The place was rather empty today, only two more people sitting across from him. He didn't bother with making any sort of conversation, he'd rather just keep to himself, unless there was a job for him to do.

Minutes passed and Laura had handed him a plate, smiling. "Here ya go, Sid! Just how you like it." Yolks runny, toast slightly-burnt.. _It was perfect._

He grinned. "Thanks, hun."

Sid's mouth watered slightly at the smell. He picked up a fork, using into his eggs and bringing a piece to his mouth. This was just about one of the only good things about being in Fleetwood, aside from the friendly doctors and overall lack of people. Sid hated how crowded some of the previous towns were.

"So, how long are you staying here in Fleetwood?" The woman asked, leaning over the counter.

Sid swallowed his food, thinking for a moment before answering her question. "Probably another month or so, it depends on how many people need work to be done." He couldn't stay forever, since there was only a certain amount of people who wanted another person dead in each town.

Curiosity glimmered in her green eyes, her head tilted in just the slightest. "How come you don't plan on settling down any time soon? I'm sure there's other jobs for an assassin to do aside from all the dirty work."

He shrugged, which earned a frown from her. "You could always work here, I could always use an extra set of hands on weekends."

Sid shook his head. "Nah, I've never been good with cooking. Besides, I have no problem with finding things to do- it just requires me to move a lot, which I'm okay with." He was being honest. Sid didn't like staying in one place all too long, since the people he started caring about usually ended up dead.

He took a sip from his water. The woman looked sad, but understood where he was coming from. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll miss ya once I'm on the road again. Might visit every once in a while, if I get the chance." That is, as long as she was still alive by then. He took another bite from his eggs.

"Aw, and they say you're all mean and cold!" She laughed. "You're one of the sweetest assassins I've met."

He smiled slightly at that. "Why would I be mean to you? You haven't poisoned me yet."

" _Yet._ " She repeated, obviously joking. He shoved the rest of the egg into his mouth, slurping it up and chewing. Laura watched with a disgusted expression, then tossed a napkin his way. "There's yolk dripping down your chin, you animal."

He giggled, picking it up and wiping his face. "Are you going to miss me less, now?"

"By all means, yes." She fake gagged, then went to take an empty plate from one of the other people sitting at the counter.

He finished up his food, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his wallet. There was a chain attached, which tugged at his pants once he lifted it. He fished out a ten and some ones, then slid it towards Laura. "Here, keep the change."

The woman graciously took the money, picking up his plate and heading towards the sink. "Be careful out there, Sid!"

"Will do." He responded, getting up and heading towards the door. "See you around, Laura."

With that, he left the diner, heading towards the marketplace. A drone buzzed above, passing by him as it surveyed the streets in search of crime. He watched it, squinting his eyes against the bright sun as it made it's rounds around the town.

"You're the Death Adder, right?" A small voice asked, grabbing his attention. Sid turned, facing the older man that stood before him.

"It depends on who's asking." He simply stated, then cocked his head. "How do you recognize me outside of my gear? Last time I checked, it was the gas mask and get-up that was on those wanted posters.."

The old man scratched his head nervously, clearing his throat. "Well, you and Laura were talking kind of loudly in there about the whole 'assassin' thing, and it was a wild guess. Your jacket has snakes on it, and-"

Sid sighed. "Yeah, okay.. Just, can we speak somewhere more private?" He asked and the man nodded.

As it turned out, after following him into an alley, he had quite the mission to offer. Revenge for his son, who's life had recently been taken by a Vulture camp a couple of miles out. Sid agreed to run out there and get rid of said vultures, but only for a good price. They both agreed on $5,000.. And a couple of the son's shirts, since he needed new clothes.

Sid stepped into his apartment, sitting down on the bed with a sigh before taking off his jacket. It was show time. He piled up his gear into a large bag, throwing it over his shoulder and grabbing his gun. He would need to carry it if he wanted to be extra careful. With all said and done, he picked up the small radio that he used to contact people, dialing in a familiar number. The other end picked up rather quickly, the sound of gunshots being prominent.

"-Yeah?" The voice asked, grunting.

Sid shook his head, then spoke. "I'm gonna need a ride." 


End file.
